


wicked games

by urwelcome_forthis



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Smut, Takes place right after the end of the 100th ep, Voyeurism, as always supercorp is endgame, canon adjacent, deeply ooc and more an exploration of different types of darkness in them both, earth prime, just a whole lotta angst and smut, lena isn't actually a villain they are both just absolute idiots, this whole thing is angst really, very different from what i usually write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urwelcome_forthis/pseuds/urwelcome_forthis
Summary: Maybe, Lena thinks, there’s more than one way to be a villain.A way that doesn’t hurt anyone else. A way that allows her to be good, choose the right choice for the planet at large, while hurting Supergirl, while hurting Kara, the one person she has ever loved with such intensity, at the same time.After all, she thinks, Kara hurt her first.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Lena Luthor/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 25
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in my head for days so it had to be written 
> 
> find me on tumblr @urwelcomeforthis

Lena _hates_ this new Earth. 

She has to keep up five separate identities on this Earth and it is.... taxing. To say the very least. 

To most of National City and the World at large she’s Lena Luthor, proud member of the Luthor family. 

To Lex and Lillian, she’s the one who either killed them or helped imprison them, and is now, due to betrayal, seemingly on their side. 

To the ‘superfriends’ (she grits her teeth just thinking of that _idiotic_ name), she’s a lost cause, an enemy in the making, the person they spent years lying to. 

To Kara.... to Supergirl, she’s a wall of fury and hurt and, if Lena’s to dismiss her latest warning and continue with Non Nocere, a soon to be real life villain whom she’ll have to fight against. 

To herself? Her last, fifth and final identity? Well, she’s not sure anymore. Not since she lost everything she built, not since she decided it was easier to play along with Lex to keep herself safe, not since she lost Kara. 

She sits on her couch, in her stark white apartment, and contemplates the space on the balcony Supergirl vacated only minutes before. 

She knows, deep down, she knows, her efforts at mind control are misguided at the very best. Truth be told, she thinks that she’s just angling for a confrontation. To see how far she can push Kara, how far her former best friend is willing to go in the fight for her soul. 

Sometimes in the darkness of the night, she wonders if she has a soul left to fight for, after everything. 

She’s jarred out of her thoughts by a knock at the door and she clenches her jaw. The last thing she needs is Kara or Alex Danvers showing up, not Supergirl, to tell her she needs to right her eternal wrongs. 

Still, she answers it, curiosity and the cat, and all that. 

When she sees Andrea standing in the dimly lit hallway she reaches to the recesses of her mind, to wonder what the woman could be doing there. 

Andrea must see the confusion on her face because the other woman falters, the bottle of scotch in her hand lowering slightly. “Am I here on the wrong night?” 

It’s then, that Lena remembers. She had, under the pretenses of repairing their friendship, invited Andrea over, for a night of drinking and talking, just like they used to do. 

“No, no Andrea, of course. I’m sorry. I just had a talk with Supergirl and it’s set me slightly on edge.” She half-lies, ushering her ex-ex-best friend inside and closing the door behind them both. 

“Oh? Anything interesting? Off the record of course.” Andrea smirks and Lena, well she doesn’t feel her heart flutter like it used to at that look on Andrea’s face. 

No, now she feels a combustion of all the betrayal and lies that tore the two of them apart. But if she’s to keep Lex from killing her, or worse, killing someone else in her name, she’s to play this game. 

And if she can get something out of it, no one is the wiser. 

“DEO business, I’m afraid. You know how brother dearest gets when I spill the secrets of his prized organization.” She rolls her eyes with a smile on her face for emphasis, and it works, Andrea rolling her eyes right along with her. 

“Oh, trust me I know. He’s known me since we were kids and still, every interview request is turned down, every phrase is carefully turned. That brother of yours, I swear.” She laments as she walks with authority over to where Lena stores the high ball glasses in her cabinet. 

Strange, Lena thinks, that Andrea knows the way around her apartment. But then again, this Andrea is living a strange lie, the life of Earth Prime Andrea. Close enough to old Andrea but, different enough that Lena has to wonder. 

Andrea carefully pours them both glasses, the amber liquid inviting and warm as always, before she turns to Lena with a cocked eyebrow. Beneath that bravado, though, Lena swears she see’s a flicker of nerves. 

“I’m glad, Lena. That you want to be friends again. I know we’ve been in a weird space since I came back, but if we can get even a little of what we used to be back, I’m grateful.” She hands Lena a glass, before clicking the side with her own and Lena, for her part smiles, despite her burning curiosity. 

They both take careful sips, watching each other, tension filling the room. 

Lena thinks she knows, where this is going, where they used to end up before the medallion, but she needs to be careful. Andrea is not dumb, and any misplaced step could blow everything to pieces. 

“Yes, well, it would be nice to return to our original dynamic, as it were.” She offers, an eyebrow cocked, and Andrea, for her part, hums in agreement, her eyes darting to Lena’s lips. 

“Yeah. Although, I wouldn’t mind if we kept some of the more.....recent developments in tact.” She says as she drains her glass, her gaze returning to Lena’s face, hot and burning. 

Ah, Lena thinks. Yes. I know this tension well. 

She remembers, being young and in love, the sweaty and exploratory nights spent, teeth biting hard on pillows to keep quiet. It seems she’s re-acquired an old habit on this Earth. 

She smirks at Andrea, at herself, at the pull she feels, deep in her stomach. 

Quite the development indeed. 

Setting her own glass down, she slides in Andrea’s space, the other woman standing taller over her in her heels. 

“No, I don’t find that I would mind too greatly either.” She breathes running a finger up the left side of the open collar of Andrea’s silk button up. 

“I - I don’t want to ruin our reconciliation, Lena. If we keep doing this, it’s just what it’s always been. Stress relief.” Andrea’s voice is a whisper, a choked effort really. 

Lena would laugh if she wasn’t afraid it would be her tell. 

“I think we’re in agreement, darling.” She murmurs as she takes Andrea’s hand and leads her in a slow walk towards the bedroom. 

She decides to adopt a sixth persona - one who takes what she wants when she wants it. And on her Earth, it has been a long, long, time since she’s felt anything but her own fingers on her body. 

And considering the body she has, that’s truly a damn shame. 

They stop in the bedroom, Andrea’s breathing heavy with anticipation. 

Lena eyes her for a moment, before walking over to the windows and throwing them open, curtains pushed back. It’s a warm night in National City and the breeze from being up so high will help keep her room from getting so muggy. 

When she turns around Andrea is fumbling around in her bedside drawer and she thinks, for a moment, that in another lifetime, one not filled with betrayal, this could have been her normal. 

And this _is_ , another lifetime, another normal, but she’s aware of the way she can take, and take, and take, and _ruin_ , and it thrills her. 

Andrea pulls out a supple red harness, and Lena’s own favorite 7 inch blue glittered dildo and raises an eyebrow. Lena nods. 

_Yes, that will do just fine._ She thinks as she begins to slowly take her own clothes off, mirroring Andrea. 

She doesn’t know what compels her to suggest it, minutes later, when they’re slick with sweat and spit kissed lips, thrumming with intent, but she hears her hoarse voice begging Andrea to fuck her against the open window, where she can feel the breeze on her face. 

Andrea, always eager to please Lena, complies easily, following her, dildo jutting out from the harness on her hips as they cross to the large open windows, bending Lena over as she places her hands on the windowsill. 

Lena feels the toy enter her slowly from behind, delicate hands on her hips, a thigh between her own, holding her open. It’s been long enough that the fullness almost sends her immediately over the edge but she holds back, knowing it will be more pleasurable if she does. 

Andrea fucks her gently at first, but eventually gains speed, Lena’s breathy and high pitched feminine moans echoing above National City’s quiet night time streets. 

Lena’s not sure what compels her to look, as Andrea finally, blessedly, begins to fuck her rough and fast the way she likes, but when she does she can see, in the distance, a dark figure hanging in the sky, far enough away that it almost looks like a mirage. 

When she sees the snap of the red cape, however, she knows she isn’t imagining things. 

Kara is watching. 

Kara is watching Lena get fucked senseless by the blonde’s boss, strap buried deep, on display for the strongest being on the entire planet. 

And Lena thinks for a moment, as she stares straight ahead at the unmoving figure, not once looking away as she begs Andrea to fuck her harder, to slap her ass, to give her _everything,_ maybe, Lena thinks, there’s more than one way to be a villain. 

A way that doesn’t hurt anyone else. A way that allows her to be good, choose the right choice for the planet at large, while hurting Supergirl, while hurting Kara, the one person she has ever loved with such intensity, at the same time.

After all, she thinks, Kara hurt her first. 

When she comes, she doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t even close her eyes. When she comes she’s looking at Supergirl, unmoving in the distance. 

Without turning around, without taking her eyes off Kara, hanging motionless in the distance, she commands Andrea to take her again. 

Project Non Nocere is forgotten in that very moment. 

After all, Lena has just found a much more interesting game to play.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're exorcising some demons in this fic y'all 
> 
> find me on tumblr at @urwelcomeforthis

It becomes habit, after that first night. 

Kara hangs in the distance, like she’s attuned herself to the distinct way Lena’s heart beats when she’s _with_ someone and Lena, for her part makes sure to put on a show. 

Andrea is a regular in these nights and days, and Lena lets herself go in the basest of ways, lets her mind’s fantasies run wild, knowing Kara sees her, knowing Kara hears her, knowing, in the parts of herself she keeps buried that Kara _yearns_ for her. 

On this Earth, Jack Spheer is alive, and is surprised if not tentative when after a meeting, Lena invites him home with her. 

His hesitancy disappears when Lena leads him out onto her balcony and drops to her knees as soon as she sees that cape flowing in the distance. 

She wonders what Kara thinks, what she feels when she sees Lena on bruised knees with her cheeks hollow and her mouth full. 

When Jack hauls her up after, she catches sight of Supergirl floating higher and higher in the air, towards the stratosphere, as though to escape the realm that is Earth Prime, and she feels a smugness overtake her entire being, settling deep in her bones. 

They both knew what they were playing at, before. When Kara Danvers was Kara Danvers and Lena was her blind best friend. The touches and the holding and the longing stares were something treasured for both of them, and now? 

Now, Lena has turned them into a weapon worse than Kryptonite. 

She feels powerful, as she struts on her heels into work each day after a long, satisfying night.

She has done what Lex never managed to do, after all. 

She has broken a Super, and all without a single projectile. 

She can see it, in the way Kara floats, incapacitated, stuck in the air, her hair a mess of curls and shoulders sagging as though only they are victims of Earth’s gravitational pull. 

When James comes to visit Kelly and makes a pit stop at LuthorCorp to say hello, she’s only stopped in her quest to have Kara see them together by the watch gleaming on his wrist. 

When she’s home alone that night, kicking herself for not taking advantage of the man she once regularly rode to completion, she stumbles upon her most sinister idea yet. 

She bides her time, wanting to ensure she has Kara completely ensnared, before she makes good on her mind’s blueprints. 

She was never sexless, despite the image she projected to those she encountered in her life. 

Although, if she was admitting it to only herself, she was never quite this _voracious,_ before. 

She ignores the whisper in her mind, that it has to do with Kara, this new appetite, that it has to do with knowing Kara’s eyes are on her, knowing Kara sees her in her most sensual moments, at her most exposed. 

It’s on a normal Tuesday, that she takes a page out of Lex’s handbook and invites her secretary into her office under false pretenses. 

She was careful and calculated before she made her move, more revealing outfits worn, more flirtatious banter. That day she pulled an old favorite out of her closet, a deep cut top that left her shoulders bare and chest on display, and she knew she the line she had cast had been pulled taught and tight, the secretary hooked right through the mouth. 

The top had worked once before, on James, and she wonders to herself if Kara watched them, even then. 

She knows the answer is no, but she can’t help but wonder how often Kara, Supregirl, so attuned to Lena’s beating heart, lay at home and knew what was happening to her best friend at the hands of her capable ex. 

She asked the woman, Claire, to wait after work that day, and the pink tinge that accentuated the woman’s cheeks told her enough. 

Once everyone else had gone home she invited Claire in, dragging a finger across her pink plump lips, and knew the game was afoot. 

She sat in her chair, turned to face the balcony, one leg slung over the eager and earnest girls shoulders as she licked and tasted every inch of Lena. 

The sun was setting, orange fire lit in the sky, and Lena’s heart hammered in her chest as she flicked open the face of the watch on her wrist and pressed that damn sigil, that crest that had brought her so much pain. 

As she fisted a hand in the girl’s hair, guiding her tongue to her center, urging her to push in, she waited, watching as a blue and red blur scorched across the burnt sky towards her, coming to a sudden halt barely a foot away from the windows she was splayed in front of. 

Kara halted quickly and Lena’s breath caught at the intensity of the moment. 

It was the closest they had ever been to each other during these moments and the second blue eyes locked on green, Lena came, spilling and gushing across the red haired woman’s face and chin, down her shirt and onto the floor. 

She held the woman there, didn’t let her catch her breath as her eyes bore into Kara’s. 

Kara’s face was hard, her blue eyes glassy, her chest heaving in time with Lena’s. 

Time seemed infinite and unmoving as they sat, separated by glass and a wall of heartbreak, staring at each other, truly seeing each other for the first time in weeks. 

When Lena slid her leg off her secretary’s shoulders and unclenched her hand from red fiery hair, Kara took a deep breath, a shudder wracking her body, before she shook her head once and took off too fast for the human eye. 

Lena dismissed Claire, ignoring the wondrous and heated look in the woman’s eyes, thanking her with an impartial tone, and telling her to be in at 9 the next morning. 

She pulled her lacy underwear back in place as the door shut, feeling without seeing the icy burn of eyes on her back as she once again took her place in her desk chair. 

The game she was playing was dangerous, and she realized, later that night at home, glass of wind in hand, that she hadn’t calculated the true costs of winning.


End file.
